


Laced

by Kaijuscientists



Series: Fictober 2020 [10]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Aziraphale is drugged, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020, crowley saves him, no rape or sexual assault actually happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27155429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaijuscientists/pseuds/Kaijuscientists
Summary: Crowley convinces Aziraphale to go out to the club with him, a man slips him a laced drink and Crowley saves the night.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Fictober 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949386
Comments: 1
Kudos: 113





	Laced

**Author's Note:**

> 22\. DO THESE TACOS TASTE FUNNY TO YOU?  
> Poisoned | Drugged | Withdrawal
> 
> heed the tags, nothing happens, but better safe than sorry.

Aziraphale would not say he regretted coming out with Crowley tonight. No, anytime he got to do anything with Crowley was good for him. But he would much rather be at him, with a nice cup of cocoa and a book.

As it was, he was sitting at a table in a loud club in downtown London. Crowley had promised him dinner, wherever he wanted.

_”Come on, angel, it’ll be fun!”_

_“I’ll take you out, wherever you want to go._

_"Please, just, come out and have some fun with me.”_

So he relents, and accompanies the demon. Crowley buys him a fruity drink, the kind he knows he’ll never order for himself. He picks them out a table in the corner, so he can people watch better. 

It doesn’t take long before Crowley is distracted. The club is crowded, and with this many people together, all partaking in drinking, it’s very easy to tempt people into little sins.

And while they may not work for their respective sides anymore, he still enjoys inspiring a little mischief when the moment strikes. 

Aziraphale is weighing the pros and cons of just leaving Crowley to it, and going home when a man slides into the booth next to him.

“Hey, there, this is for you” he says, sliding Aziraphale a drink, rum and coke from the looks of it. “I’m Ethan.” 

“Oh, hello, I’m Aziraphale.” He replies, taking the drink. “Thank you.” 

“That’s an unusual name.” Ethan remarks. 

“It’s uh, an old family name.” 

“It’s nice,” Ethan says, leaning in closer. “You’ve been alone here for a while.” 

“I’m here with a friend, they’re a bit distracted though.” Aziraphale says, looking out into the crowd for Crowley, but he doesn’t see him. He absent mindedly takes a sip of his new drink. 

He and Ethan talk for a while, and he finds himself feeling rather floaty and a little light headed.

“Why don’t you come with me?” Ethan asks, he’s now standing next to Aziraphale, when did he move?

Aziraphale takes his offered hand without even thinking about it, allows Ethan to pull him to his feet, and he almost immediately over balances, the man helping him stay upright. 

“M’friend, I need Crow…. Crowley.” Aziraphale stutters, finding it very hard to form words all of the sudden, but that’s as far as he gets with that particular thought. 

“We’ll go find him first?” Ethan says, leading Aziraphale through the club. “Sound good?”

Aziraphale smiles, nodding happily and walking along with this nice man, he couldn’t wait to find Crowley. 

“Hey!” A voice booms over the music playing. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Crowley swoops in, looking from Aziraphale to this… this predator. Aziraphale is clearly not ok, and hanging off of this man. Crowley knows immediately what’s happened here, between the unsteadiness, confusion, and dilated pupils. 

One would think this was one of hell’s inventions, drugging people, but it was all humans idea.

“Hey man,” Ethan says, trying to keep Aziraphale moving, eager to get him out of the club as quickly as possible. “Look, he’s ok, i’m just gonna make sure he gets home safe.” 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale slurs, reaching a hand towards him, wanting to be with him. 

“Shit.” Ethan curses, his luck tonight having reached its end. He pushes his would-be target towards the man who is apparently Crowley. “Whatever, he’s your problem now. 

Crowley catches the angel, and in the commotion of making sure he doesn’t tip over, he loses the bastard who was responsible in the crowd. Fuck, he’d have to deal with him later, Aziraphale is more important right now. 

“Crowley, I’m very tired.” He says, squinting up at Crowley, the whole room having gone very spiny. 

“Ok, angel, let’s get you home, alright?” Crowley walks Aziraphale out of the club, into the Bentley, and to his flat in record time. 

Crowley is kneeling in front of Aziraphale where he sits on his couch, though it’s less of a sit and more of a lean.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley says softly, helping Aziraphale sit up. “Look at me.” 

“I don’t feel right, Crowley.” he says, eyes half lidded. 

“I know,” Crowley coos. “I need to try and sober up, can you do that for me?”

Aziraphale closes his eyes, concentrates, but it's obvious that nothing is happening. He drops his head into his hands, shaking his head. 

“I can’t.” He says, voice emotional. “I can’t remember how.” 

“Fuck.” Crowley curses. “Just, think it really hard, angel, you can do it.”

Aziraphale’s only response is to slowly tip to the side.

“I’m too sleepy.”

“Shit ok, ok. Um, I’ll do it then.” Crowley says. He’d never done this to anyone else before, so he hoped it worked. He takes the angel's face in his hands, looking into Aziraphale’s unfocused eyes. 

He focuses, bending the universe to his will, telling any drugs and alcohol in Aziraphale’s blood to leave immediately. 

It takes a few minutes, but when Crowley opens his eyes, he’s looking into Aziraphale’s blue ones, relieved to find them clear and alert. 

“Hey.” Crowley says softly. “How d’you feel?”

“Better I think?” Aziraphale says pressing his hand to his forehead, mostly unsure, he still feels a little floaty, but also fully in control of his mental faculties and corporation. “A little light headed still.”

“Good,” Crowley says, standing, his face morphing into something more sinister “I’m going to kill that man now.”

“Wait!” Aziraphale exclaims, grabbing the demon’s wrist. “Don’t go, please. I… don’t want to be alone.” 

Crowley softens again, sinking onto the couch next to him. “Whatever you need. I’ll take care of him later.”

“Hold me for a little bit?” Aziraphale asks, leaning into Crowley’s arms. 

“‘Course, angel.”


End file.
